Don't own Twilight. Authors Note: YES, THIS IS A REPOST.
His footsteps are coming down the hall, he's impossible...impossible to escape.
And I'm bitter, hating what I became after they left. At first I wanted to blame them for everything - after all, when someone tells you they love you and makes that vow of forever, you don't expect them to break that oath. You don't expect them to leave. Most importantly, you don't expect them to shatter you.
But he did, they all did.
Months went by. In fact it had been almost a year now - June 20th, his birthday. One little date can cause so much pain but the way we're all treated here is at most...disturbing. After Sam had discovered me in the woods that night I basically ceased living. Charlie dealt with it for a few months - he tried convincing me to seek therapy. He tried to get me to move back in with Renee. I refused both. At least in Washington there's rain. Funny, I used to hate the rain. Now I can't seem to get enough of it.
I'm not sure, it could be the memory of one baseball game during a thunderstorm or that the sun shining reminds me of those days when he wouldn't be able to join me in public. I hated when he was away and now? Now I would give anything for "away". At least then, he wouldn't be gone.
Charlie and Renee begged me to move to Florida and the next day, she and Phil were in a car accident, killed on impact. I couldn't bring myself to mourn. What kind of daughter doesn't mourn her own mother's death?
That was the final straw. Charlie sent me to a mental institution in Seattle. Right after I got here, I started to go mad. Cartoons floated around in the air, people that weren't really there talked to me and I heard voices.
I heard voices...
The TV made weird noises, I saw weird colors. I even managed to convince myself I was just a reflection or a dream - and the doctor put me on a drug called Zyprexa. At one point I asked him what was wrong with me; why I had to be on pills.
I'm a paranoid schizophrenic.
Now that I'm done with high school, instead of at college, I'm here. Some of the doctors are sexually abusive. As I said, I hear his footsteps and they're right outside the door.
Well, at least it might rain later.
Edward once referred to himself as a "sick, masochistic lion". I think at this point I could out-do that one. But I think about them a lot. I wonder about them - about what car Rose is working on, if Emmett has beaten Halo 3 yet, what kind of house Esme's modernizing. Does Jasper have another degree? Has Carlisle discovered the cure for cancer?
Mostly I think of the two unmentioned. Alice...Edward.
And as I wait here for the doctor, I don't cry. If I don't get my meds, I can see the black seep coming through the walls, the spiders crawl on my arms, and there aren't enough sedatives in the world to stop the screaming.
Edward was right all along, humans are weak. And besides, who would be possessed enough to stick around with a schizophrenic? The weakest of all the humans...
Maybe everything he ever said to me was a lie. He wasn't in love with me, he was just waiting to make me his next meal. Of course.
As I glance up I look out the window - no rain yet but the clouds are overcast. Suddenly the door swings open. "Great to see you again, Isabella." Dr Thompson shuts the door behind him and as he does a "check up", pulling my shirt up, he starts feeling my breasts. I squeeze my eyes tightly together and shut the rest of my senses down as much as I can.
I wish he was here.
Without warning, I hear the sound of water cascading down to the grass outside. My head snaps up again and I stare - it's finally raining. But I'm inside. Unable to clasp it or even touch it. Powerless to sense it. And an unwelcome hand is inching downward.